by A P Gore
Billionaire’s Only Marriage
Billionaires and Soul Sisters Book 2
Pat Jones
A.P. Gore
To my lovely Family!
Copyright @ Pat Jones
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Chapter 1
The sun sank deeper in the west, giving way to a cool northern wind. The breeze swept past Samantha Hald’s face, providing much-needed relief for her exhausted body. Winter would be here soon, and the dry summer would vanish. Not that she cared about the weather, per se, but carrying boxes would be much easier in chilly winter than sweaty summer.
Samantha glanced around, envying the people going home, before her eyes landed on the remaining box. One more box, and she would be free to join them. For once, she’d be able to pick Aaron—her four-year-old son—on time, too. Aaron’s curly black hair and cute round face popped into her mind. The thought of seeing him gave her strength, and she lifted the last box.
A sharp pain shot from her lower back when she bent to place the box on her trolley. She dropped it, and it fell the last few inches to the trolley with a noisy thud. Placing a hand on her back, she rubbed the muscle under her oversized gray tee. It pained a little, but it didn’t seem any worse than it had been for the last few months. By now, even Aaron had gotten used to the nasty smell of pain-relieving patches. Maybe she could do yoga on weekends to relieve the pain.
Maybe she should.
Ignoring the pain, she curled her fingers around the trolley’s cold metal handle and pushed it toward the service elevator. The boxes didn’t weight much individually, but after stacking them on one another they added quite a bit of weight to the trolley. Do this loop ten times a day, and anyone’s back would start complaining. But being a temp worker didn’t allow her to be too picky about her work. At least she was getting a decent salary here. Enough to feed her kid, pay the rent, and pay for day care. It wasn’t much but it was enough.
Her phone beeped as she entered the elevator. It was Misha, the woman that watched Aaron during the day.
Sam, for God’s sake come early today. I’ve got a date, and I can’t look after Aaron after seven.
It was only four fifty. There was still time. If she got out by five and caught the express bus, she would reach day care by six. Aaron’s smiling face beamed at her from her home screen, and she couldn’t help but smile. She’d even be home in time to take Aaron to the park before it got dark. She might even buy an ice-cream for her pumpkin. A small treat for reaching home on time. He would love the surprise.
With newfound energy, she pushed the trolley faster than usual.
Ten minutes later, she finished stacking the boxes in the storage room.
“Sam!” A shrill voice boomed inside the half empty storage room as Samantha finished tagging the boxes. Nerve-clasping panic ran down her spine. When Melisa—her boss—called anyone’s name like that, it meant trouble.
Samantha slowly turned, putting on a fake smile.
Melisa strode forward, her long black dress somehow managing not to hinder her fast-moving heels.
Glancing at her own sneakers and faded blue jeans, Samantha felt good about her own choice. It was the best self-made dress code for temps like her. She could die in those heels.
“Sam, what are you doing here?” Melisa closed and opened her extra dark red lips, adjusting her lipstick.
Samantha glanced at the ID tagger in her hand and the row of boxes behind her. Wasn’t it clear enough? “I just brought in the delivery and tagged it.”
“Good, so you’re free now.”
Samantha bit her lower lip. “Uh, about that—”
Melisa’s phone emitted the ugliest ringtone any woman could put on her phone and then she excused herself. While talking on the phone, her free hand jumped up and down like she was arguing with someone.
It was a bad sign.
When she finished the call, Melisa dropped her phone on the golden colored bag hanging on her shoulder and turned back to Samantha.
“Listen, I’ve got some urgent work, and I need you to pick up a box at eight p.m., sharp. Once you pick it up, take it to the CEO’s office and call the security team. They’ll send someone up to set a passcode.”
Samantha blinked. This wasn’t happening.
“Remember.” Melisa patted Samantha’s cheek. “The CEO’s office. The new CEO starts tomorrow, so make sure everything looks perfect. Your job depends on it.
Before Samantha could get a word in edgewise, Melisa walked out of the storage room.
Jesus. Samantha sagged against the wall of boxes and slid down it until she hit the floor.
What was she going to tell Misha now? And who was going to pick up Aaron from day care?
Chapter 2
Samantha blew at the strand of hair in her face in a desperate attempt to magically send it back behind her ears, but the darn thing jumped in the air and then fell back.
Stupid hair and stupid security guard.
A late-night UPS truck had delivered the box half an hour ago, but the guard made her wait until he finished his dinner. Seeing the box, he tried to flash a smile of sympathy at her, but she didn’t buy it.
Stupid guard.
Hoisting the thirty-pound box, she moved into the empty lobby.
Six elevator doors waited for her in the empty lobby, bare of the day’s hustle and bustle.
As she adjusted the box in her hands, it shifted suddenly and scraped against her cheek with a prickling pain. Jesus, she hoped it hadn’t left a scratch behind.
A chilly breeze blew across the reception area when someone opened the front door, easing her sweaty back inside her extra-large gray tee. Not that she was fat.
Poor people didn’t get fat.
The oversized shirt was her choice. First, she got them on discount at Target. Second, it let her walk stealthily most of the time. Generally, people ignored nobodies in offices, and she liked being a nobody. Away from everyone’s attention, just doing her work.
With her five-four height, plain, round, unnoticeable face, pointy nose and oversized cheap tees, she looked unattractive. The way she wanted to look. Not that she looked like a model on magazine covers and hid her appearance, but even looking slightly decent had given her bad experiences.
Third, she was the superwoman of the planning department, so she lifted extra heavy boxes and was all sweaty by the end of the day, so wearing a loose tee helped her from being an objectifiable thing in people’s eyes.
With heavy steps, she finally reached the elevator door that would take her to the CEO’s office. The box belonged to the new CEO, and it smelled like vanilla flavored coffee. Aaron liked this flavor too, but the smell coming from the box seemed more authentic and purer than the cheap stuff she got from 7-11. Did the CEO pack a whole box of coffee? No, that couldn’t be true. A thirty-pound box was bound to have many other things.
Sweat tickled down her forehead, making her itch to wipe it away, but she couldn’t. Jesus, those corporate cost-cutters, why would they turn off the A/C after eight? No, it was the CEO’s fault for moving up his arrival by two weeks and sending a heavy box like this in the night. The man must be a workaholic. Otherwise, who moved up his start date? On the other hand, she would’ve done the same thing. Starting early meant getting paid early, and God, she needed so much money right now. Aaron’s day care had just announced a rate hike, and she was already wondering how she was going to afford it. Maybe she could find another day care, closer to the office, but she doubted any other day care would come as cheap as the current one. And her contracted salary wouldn’t let her afford anything better than the current one.
Thinking about Misha, she bit her lower lip. Misha was going to kill her for being late.
She was about to put the heavy box down on the floor when someone walked up behind her and pressed the elevator button.
Thank God. Putting the box down and lifting it again would have taxed her already pained lower back.
Everything was the new CEO’s fault.
“Thanks,” she said, stepping inside the elevator when the doors opened. Because of the box, she couldn’t see the person who stepped onto the elevator behind her, but it was a man for sure. When he pressed the elevator button, she saw his large hand and slender fingers around the edge of the box. A woman wouldn’t have a muscular hand like that.
“Can you press forty-two for me?” She leaned back on the steel wall. The metal railing touched her hips, giving her some welcome support. At least the heavy box seemed lighter for a few moments.
“Are you going to the CEO’s floor?” A husky voice asked, confirming it was a man.
“You too?”
“Yes.”
“That’s great. Maybe you can help me open his office door.” The more she could avoid putting the box down, the merrier her back would be.
“Shouldn’t it be locked?” His voice held a note of surprise.
“Not right now. The new CEO is coming tomorrow, so we’re still setting it up.”
“That’s a security breach. What if someone stole his stuff while you’re in the elevator?” He seemed like the suspicious type. Was he from the security department? He must be. Melisa had told her someone would come to set a new code for the CEO’s door, but that Samantha had to call them first. Maybe he came early.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “This is the only box. Once I drop it off, you can set the new passcode and lock the door.”
He didn’t reply. She assumed that meant he was satisfied with her answer. Yay! The security guys were feared in her department. They kept coming up with new regulations that hindered their work. It wasn’t a good idea to get on their bad side.
The rumbling of the elevator continued for some time before halting. The light flickered and then everything went dark.
“What the heck?” His voice was quieter and... scared?
“What happened? Have we reached the forty-second floor?” she asked, unable to see the floor number because of the box. Jesus, the thing was really weighing on her lower back now. She had better put it down soon. The elevator seemed to be crawling today.
“No.” He breathed heavily. “It’s stopped on the fortieth floor.”
“That’s strange.” She’d heard no power cuts happened in these skyscrapers. What was going on? She hoped the night staff had enough support to start the elevator soon, or her back would give out. “Let’s not panic, the power should be back in a few moments.” The reassurance was more for herself and her now aching back.
“Not good.” He sounded choked up, like her son got when the lights went off.
Resting the box on one knee, she balanced it with one hand, taking some of the pressure off her lower back. “Are you all right, sir?” Reaching to her right, she found his shoulder and rubbed it with her free hand. Usually, she preferred not to touch strange men, but she knew how scared Aaron got in a blackout. She didn’t want the man to feel the same.
“Don’t worry. The lights will be back soon. Breathe, and it’ll be all right.” And as if maintenance was waiting to hear those words, the recessed light flickered back to life.
Suddenly she was very aware of her hand resting on his shoulder. She yanked it back and clenched the box tight.
Slowly, she moved away from him. She didn’t want to seem rude, but she didn’t want to stay that close to him either. After James died four years ago, she steered away from any and every man, even her colleagues in her temp jobs. It was better that way.
With a slight jerk, the elevator started moving again. Thank God. The sweat trickle had reached her chin, and the weight of the box felt like it had grown heavier somehow.
Finally, the elevator stopped on the correct floor, and she got off. She padded forward blindly, knowing the CEO’s office was to the right, the first door. Her steps quickened, and her lower back complained with every step.
The security man followed her.
She stopped at the door. “Can you open the door for me please?” Biting her lower lip, she breathed through the pain. The heavy box was really giving her trouble now.
The door opened, and the man went inside.
Her lower back creaked under the weight. Jesus, it screeched like two iron sheets scratching against each other. This was bad. Her lower back was on the verge of giving out. Not today, please. If she dropped the box, and it contained precious things, she would be in big trouble. Job-firing trouble. God, please, lend me some strength.
She took a step. Well, she tried to take a step. The weight on her hands seemed a thousand pounds heavier than before, and her back shrieked like it broke in two pieces.
Oh God. Please save me. But there was no one to save her tonight. There was no time to call the security guy, either. She was doomed, and probably fired, by noon tomorrow.
Chapter 3
Gavin breathed deeply as he opened the CEO’s office door for the box lady. The scary taste from the elevator still lingered on his tongue. If it wasn’t for the box lady’s touch, he might have lost it.
He hated enclosed spaces and non-working elevators. Especially when he got stuck in one.
He hated the office too.
What a busybody office. A small couch caught his eyes as soon as he entered, followed by a tiny free space and then two wall-mounted bookcases filled with fiction and self-help books.
Darn, he would have to get rid of at least one of those bookcases tomorrow. That looked ugly.
Frowning, he placed his laptop on the dark brown table occupying the remaining space. As his fingers brushed the table, he found it moist. It was mahogany, old and worn. After that table, the office ended.
Just like that.
That’s it. A CEO worked in a five-by-ten office. Is that how the previous CEO worked? What a poor design and choice. In the dim evening light, it looked more like a haunted beach cabin than a CEO’s office. It even smelled like one. Moist and dull.
An old-fashioned black desktop computer occupied half of the usable table space.
God, who used a desktop in 2019?
In a single glance, he spotted ten things he needed to change by this weekend. No wonder the previous CEO almost bankrupted this company with his foolish decisions. But it wouldn’t remain on the edge of bankruptcy for long. Gavin wo
uld dredge it up from the bottom of the sea, and it would shine with his name on it. Gavin Hamilton saved another company. He could even see the headlines and a rare smile on his dad’s face.
Tomorrow, he would ask his secretary about renovations, but right now he needed to get it cleaned by the box lady.
“Help!” A pain filled yell pulled him out of his ruminations. Swinging around, he sought out the origin of the sound. The box lady was in trouble. Her knees quivered, and she looked like she was about to drop his favorite coffee machine.
No!
He lunged forward, grabbing the box.
She sighed, “Thank God.”
Adjusting his grip on the box, he lifted it so he was carrying the bulk of the weight. It was heavy, around thirty pounds. Why did the poor lady carry that all by herself? The management was so bad here. When he’d entered the main lobby there was only one security guard and no reception staff and then the elevator broke down midway. His forehead throbbed with that thought. Someone was getting fired tomorrow.
His fingers touched another bunch of rough fingers, and he froze.
“Release it. I’ll hold it,” he grunted.
The box lady hmmed but didn’t move.
Ignoring her, he lifted the box and put it on the worn desk.
The lady still stood in her quarter-crouched position, eyes closed, full lips twisted in pain.
“You can relax, miss.”
She popped open her eyes, and God, she had such deep sea-blue eyes. Her lips curled downwards. “I’m locked.”
“Locked? What do you mean?” He gawked at her, trying to understand what was going on. “Oh! You tweaked your back, eh?”
She nodded painfully.
Heck. What was with this company? Why was he getting all the wrong signs since he’d arrived a few minutes back?
Shaking his head in disappointment, he walked over to her. Everything was delaying his work. All he wanted was to set up his office and go through the revival plan once more. But here he was, stuck with an injured housekeeper.
“I can help you, but it’s going to hurt. Can you take it?”